Hatter on a Hellmouth
by Lady Irish Rose
Summary: Sequel to "A Slayer in Wonderland" Hatter has a lot to get used to in his new home like internet, smart phones, driving...demons, vampires, and occasional apocalypses. Life on the hellmouth may not be easy, but at least it's never boring.
1. Fight or Flight, Part I

Hey there! Miss me? ;) Anyhow, this is the long-awaited sequel to **"A Slayer in Wonderland" **and I have to warn you all that this will contain some violent and bloody themes. It'll be darker than **ASiW **but nothing ya'll shouldn't be able to handle. As always, the smutty companion pieces will be posted under **"Perfect Companions" **and I'm always open to more suggestions/ideas for the main story and sexy side dishes. Feedback is incredibly helpful to the creative process. As always, I must extend major thanks to **Alaina Downs** who continues to help me develop ideas and encourages me to keep writing. This probably wouldn't have happened without her invaluable input. Go and read her stuff and tell her how funny and awesome it is, especially her recently completed **"David Hatter and the Power of Yoga"**. Sooo funny and hot!

And thanks also to all those who read, reviewed and supported **ASiW**. I hope you all enjoy this one!

**Disclaimer: **Blah blah, I own nothing original to the Syfy "Alice" miniseries nor anything original to the "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" or "Angel" television series. I merely own the plot and some characters.

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><p><strong>Fight or Flight, Part I<strong>

Even the sun's eventual disappearance to deliver morning to the other side of the planet did not seem to bring an end to the oppressive, choking humidity. The sky was obscured by a thick haze, leaving only the brightest stars to shine weakly along with the moon. A cacophony of crickets and other night critters belted out their evening tunes, undaunted by the hot, moist air. It was a typical late July night for Cleveland, Ohio, but that did not make it any more bearable to a person who was raised in the far cooler Pacific Northwest. At least there was a breeze fluttering timidly off the shore of Lake Erie, producing a modicum of relief to the blonde girl who walked amongst the trees of the Wildwood area.

She swiped her hand across the back of her sweat-slicked neck. Beads of perspiration rolled down from her hairline. Her attire was not helping the situation either. She wore long trousers made of thick, quality denim and heavy, black leather boots which spanned half the length of her calves. At least her arms were bare in a tight-fitting, black V-neck t-shirt. Her blonde hair was cut boyishly short, rendering a hair tie and other such accessories unnecessary. Her face was not exactly what one would describe as pretty or beautiful. Her features were striking and sharp, and her dark green eyes bore a restive gleam. She was of average height for a girl and slender in build. Pearly pink lips shaped a mouth which wore a scowl more often than a smile. Her pace was leisurely, but not without purpose. The girl was not out for a pleasant midnight stroll.

Encircling her wrist was a strange black device with a tiny red light that pulsed in a steady rhythm. She wore black fingerless gloves of tough but pliable leather on her hands. A sheath was strapped to her right thigh, containing a small dagger while her left leg had a length of wood sharpened to a lethal point strapped to it. Two more knives were also stashed on her person, strapped to the lateral side of each leather boot. She carried a medium-sized crossbow, currently pointed towards the ground as she stealthily moved through the woods, scanning the area with her senses. The crossbow was already loaded and there were several more bolts in a quiver slung across her back.

Unusual though her appearance might be to most people, it was not exactly bizarre to see a girl who looked scarcely older than eighteen walking the streets (or, in this case, the woods) of Cleveland armed with archaic weaponry. In the dead of night and by herself no less. Erica Leitheiser was, in fact, only eighteen years old. But what she lacked in age she made up for in several other…less obvious areas. She was part of the handful of young women in the city who possessed unique talents and abilities. These talents and abilities were put to use defending this city and its inhabitants from the otherworldly threats which plagued the area due to the unfortunate circumstances of being located over top of a hellmouth. Though it was largely ignored by the rest of the nation and, to a certain degree, by its own citizens, the city of Cleveland, Ohio was a site of regular and, sometimes, overwhelming demonic activity. As Vampire Slayers with supernaturally enhanced physical strength, senses, stamina, and speed, Erica and her comrades were dedicated to combating this demonic activity and limiting the damage wrought by the dark attractive forces of the hellmouth.

Well, _technically_ Erica had only served in the official capacity of a Slayer for eight months. The majority of those eight months she had endured as a bottom-ranking trainee. She had finally been released to patrol unsupervised a week and a half ago-a release which had been delayed by six weeks because she had had the misfortune to be placed under the mentorship of Alice Hamilton, the second-in-command of the Cleveland Hellmouth Slayers and chief combat instructor. For one reason or another, Alice seemed to think the normal six month time period under which a trainee Slayer is prohibited from patrolling alone was an inadequate length of time where Erica was concerned. Erica had disagreed. Unfortunately, the word of a Slayer who had several years more experience under her belt carried a lot more weight than the word of a Slayer who had come fresh from the Academy in London.

_And, of course, by the time I'm allowed out on my own there's nothing going on. _She sighed despondently, running her hand along the rough ridges on the bark of an ash tree. She was patrolling through the lakefront. It was not exactly known as a demon hotspot. They tended to cluster around the Flats district at the very center of the hellmouth. But she had been through the Flats already tonight. And the night before that. And the night before _that_. She had grown tired of taking out the fledgling ruffians. None of the demon residents were causing any trouble so she could not attack them without violating the tenuous truce between the Clans and the Slayers. So she thought that, for once, she might try her luck in the state park ringing Lake Erie. She had not expected much and after an hour of walking aimlessly around the marina and the beach, all was maddeningly quiet in the supernatural sense. Other than the group of teenagers who were unashamedly disobeying the "no swimming after dark" rule, there was not a soul around. Or anything that might be lacking a soul.

It was not exactly fair, in Erica's opinion. She had only been twelve when the Battle of Sunnydale had occurred. She did not come into her Slayer powers until three years afterward when she had reached the age of fifteen, the traditional age when a Slayer is called. And even then she had not been given a stake and pointed in the direction of a vampire. By then an entire academy had been established which offered an all-expenses paid, traditional education to teenage Slayers in addition to the training and preparation they would require for battling demons and vampires. After three years there, graduated Slayers were dispersed all over the world depending on the need of the supernatural hotspots and/or the preferences of the Slayers themselves. Erica had chosen Cleveland over the foreign hellmouths and other dark nodes. The opportunity to learn different customs and languages may have appealed to some girls, but she was uninterested in such things. All she had wanted was an opportunity to pummel some demons and vampires.

She had participated in numerous field exercises at the Academy, so it was not like she had arrived in Cleveland not knowing which end of the stake to use. But a hellmouth was a completely different arena than the relatively tame London environment. This was the main reason for the existence of the six-month restriction period. Erica would have tried to argue that Slayers of the past had not bothered with such technical and bureaucratic nonsense. But that argument was nullified when she remembered that past Slayers had also tended to die less than a year after being called. She had to grudgingly admit that the new requirements probably did extend the life-spans of the young warriors by a significant margin.

She had bristled at the restrictions nonetheless. To rattle the bars of cages, invisible or real, was ingrained into her character. Her entire life seemed to be one long stretch of battling against things which she imagined were designed to hold her back. She had been constantly getting into trouble when she was younger. Whether it was in the classroom, on the recess playground, or in her own home, Erica just did not have a taste for rules. She _knew_ some rules made sense, but there were so many other rules that had no foundation in logic and seemed so arbitrary that it seemed silly to follow them. She had been a nightmare to a string of exasperated teachers. Her parents had not quite known what to do with her. They had their perfect oldest child, Erica's elder brother who had just graduated from college and was off to pursue a degree in law. And they had their precious little baby, her younger sister, who was still in high school with high hopes of being admitted to Julliard.

But Erica had had no discernible talents or ambitions—save for the talent (perhaps not exactly ambition) of getting into places she should not be or doing things she should not do. A talent for trouble was all she seemed to possess. That was a talent her parents were not willing to cultivate. So when the representatives of the International Organization of Slayers and Watchers had shown up on her doorstep, her parents were only too happy to cart her off with them. She would have been more hurt by their eagerness to be rid of her had she not been so thrilled with the prospect that _finally_ she was special in some area.

Forget being a lawyer or a cellist, Erica was going to kill monsters and help save the world! How on earth could her perfect siblings top that? But once more her expectations had fallen cruelly short of reality. The only monster killing she had done thus far had been in conjunction with other Slayers, so there was little opportunity for personal glory. The stories of Buffy Summers's exploits in Sunnydale when she had been their age were swapped around and re-told with awe and admiration. But Erica only felt envy when she thought of them. She wanted a chance to take out evil by herself. She wanted to inspire awe and respect for once instead of being looked down upon with shame and derision or worse: complete indifference. She wanted to _matter _in a way that did not involve getting into trouble. But she was still "just a rookie" in the eyes of the older Slayers on the base. Therefore, her opinions offered up little merit and she was expected to defer to older, more experienced Slayers. It irked her to no end.

The blonde girl scowled. According to her mentor, she was too impatient, too impulsive, too hotheaded. Erica would not be surprised if Alice had a list drawn up somewhere with all of her faults. Ironically, it was Erica's lack of desire (rather than lack of ability) to operate as a team member which had delayed her release to operate on her own. Because she was so averse to sharing glory and working with other Slayers, Alice had not trusted that she would actually call for backup in a dangerous situation.

"_I know you, Erica! You'll just throw yourself into the fray without even judging the situation to see if it might be too much for you to handle by yourself. You do this all the time when we're on the field and the only reason you haven't been killed is because I've been there to save you. Not to mention you put your team members at risk when you go gallivanting on your own and don't follow the orders of your squad leader. And you want me to let you be released? I'm sorry, but you're not ready. Your actions last month especially have only shown that you'd be a danger to yourself and others. I'm not doing this to punish you, okay. I'm doing it for your own good. I have no choice but to deny your release."_

Her scowl deepened. The humiliating memory was crystal clear even almost two months afterward, and the impact still stung. Those words had been spoken seven weeks ago when the six month review had come up and Erica had been shocked to learn her release was to be denied. She had hated Alice for several weeks after that. In a burst of frustration, she kicked a rock on the ground, her enhanced strength causing it to completely take off the branch of a tree several yards ahead. There were several angry screeches that followed and a bird flapped indignantly off into the shadows. Erica leaned against a tree and slid down to the ground. She dropped her crossbow in her lap, the bolt still firmly mounted and the bow string drawn back in anticipation of being sent slamming into some evil fiend's flesh. The weapon had actually been a gift from Alice and it even had Erica's name engraved upon the stock in bright, sterling silver letters.

Her thoughts wandered back to the mentor with whom it would seem she would always be somewhat at odds with. Alice was four years older than her. She was one of the Slayers who had fought in the Battle of Sunnydale over six years ago alongside Buffy Summers and Faith Lehane, the two reigning Slayers of the time. Erica wished she could have been there, though any Slayer from that battle was quick to tell her it was not an experience they wanted to repeat. They had lost many girls in the fight against the First Evil and its Turok-Han minions. But that battle transformed all those survivors into heroes. Anyone who was a Sunnydale veteran was treated with instant respect and admiration, even if they were not a Slayer.

_But she has such a stick up her ass, I swear. What does her boyfriend see in her? Other than her looks. I guess she is kind of pretty. _

Erica smiled wistfully when Alice's boyfriend came to mind. He had come from a different dimension, one called Wonderland. That name had been a source of much amusement to everyone at the base. It was almost too fantastic to be true. But David Hatter, who preferred just to go by his surname, was absolutely _wonderful_. Not only was he incredibly handsome and funny with his endearing accent and interesting array of porkpie hats, but he was so quirky and kind everyone could not help but be immediately charmed by him. Why a man so interesting and vibrant had fallen for a girl like Alice was beyond Erica. But there was no denying that Hatter and Alice were devoted to each other. She herself had never had a real boyfriend, only a few boys she had kissed. She had not even lost her V-card yet, but that was not something she had been really concerned about until Hatter came around. Now she found herself watching the two of them with a combination of disgust and envy. Would she ever find someone to love her and look at her the way Hatter loved and looked at Alice?

But even Hatter saw her as nothing more than a kid. Though she entertained no illusions of being able to woo his affections away from Alice (she would be lying if she did not admit to fantasizing about it), she at least wanted to be thought of as more than his girlfriend's troublesome charge. So from the first moment that she had been cleared for release, she had seized the opportunity to seek out a foe of her own to vanquish. Every night and most days thereafter she had been on a solitary hunt. She must have prowled through every square inch of Cleveland (at least it felt like it) utterly consumed by the need to prove herself. That would show her parents and all those teachers who thought she was good for nothing but getting into trouble. That would show Alice that she was capable of handling things on her own and that she did _not_ need anyone else to save her. That would show Hatter that she was more than just a child.

Except the hellmouth was not cooperating with this plan. It was going through a short dormant period. To most Slayers this period of time was almost like a vacation. She knew that soon enough some kind of supernatural crisis would arise and then she might have her chance to live up to her new status. But as she leaned against the ash tree in the woods which were silent except for the buzzing of crickets and the playful voices of humans on the fringes of the beach, she really wished it would be sooner rather than later. She could not stand the thought of returning to headquarters with nothing to show for the night _again_. Of course, she was the only one keeping score, so, on the one hand, it did not matter much. But it mattered to her.

Maybe she ought to just hop on over to Lorne's club and nurse her disappointment over a few virgin cocktails. One would think a nightclub and karaoke bar owned by a demon from a different dimension in the East Bank of the Flats would not care about alcohol laws, but apparently Lorne was not willing to serve to underage patrons. And it was no good trying to fool him with fake identification since he knew all the Slayers. But at least the non-alcoholic drinks tasted good. And since Hatter had started working there tending the bar, _Caritas Dos_ had experienced an increase in patronage within the young female demographic-especially among the Slayers. Perhaps he would be working tonight. That rare smile graced her face once more, softening her sharp features for a brief moment.

She rose to her feet and brushed off the assortment of twigs, dead leaves, and dirt which had stuck to her jeans, resigning herself to yet another uneventful hunt. She began making her way back towards the bridge. The only light she had to guide her way was the crescent shaped moon and its army of stars, though they were dimmed out by the moisture permeating the atmosphere. She did have a flashlight in her pocket, but her eyes were supernaturally enhanced to see clearly in poor lighting, though her vision was not quite as sharp as a vampire's would be. Yet there was enough silvery illumination that she could easily traverse the overturned logs, protruding tree roots and occasional inclines.

The trees began to shake, their leaves rustling together in a cadence of whispers. Erica's senses undulated with distinct warning and she came to a halt. She immediately began scanning the area, her heart thumping with fearful anticipation. She could not exactly isolate a location for whatever the source of this…anomaly was that her Slayer senses had identified. It was something entirely new; that much she could discern. She knew what vampires and all the motley demon species felt like. They each had their own unique but subtle signature. But this phenomenon did not register on her radar of familiar signatures. Her lips curled into a feral smile, a smile that contained none of the whimsical warmth of her earlier smile. The implication was promising.

She listened closely, honing her senses as she had been trained to do for the past three years. All background noises were blocked out to make way for any sign of what (or where) the source of this new phenomenon might be. She really hoped it was not just a glitch or a supernatural ripple of the dark magicks of the hellmouth. Now that would have been the cream of the crop of disappointment; as if the Powers That Be themselves were mocking her. From what she had heard about them and their games, she would not put it past them. Not that she presumed herself to be so significant that they would take time out of governing the Earth dimension to play tricks on her. But stranger things had happened.

Then she heard it. It was the beating of wings; large, powerful wings sweeping up a maelstrom in the air above the canopy just a few yards ahead. Then an otherworldly screech split the air, piercing her over-sensitive eardrums even from where she stood and Erica clapped her hands against her ears in knee-jerk reaction to fend off the auditory assault. Tree branches groaned and cracked as whatever it was that had been hovering in the air just above them began descending to the forest floor. Erica instinctively placed herself behind a tree just a few paces ahead to scope it out. She might have been itching for a supernatural brawl, but she was not an idiot. While it did not register as malevolent, that did not rule out it being a threat to her. This creature would learn of her presence when she willed it. It was one of the first rules one learned in how to keep control of a situation.

It had landed in a small glade, allowing weak moon and starlight to breach the canopy. It gave Erica the perfect opportunity to look upon this new creature and figure out what it might be and what sort of threat it might pose. Her heart pounded wildly against her ribcage-half-hoping that it was something dangerous she could attack and half-hoping it was something innocuous. For the creature, whatever it was, was too exotically beautiful to be something evil. It was bizarrely contrived, however. It was massive, easily the size of a rhinoceros or hippopotamus. The wings which sprouted from its back were membranous like bat wings with spiny extended digits appearing to be grafted throughout the thick, leathery tissue. She could not narrow down a color to apply to it, for its appearance was fluidly shifting in color. It almost appeared to blend into the backdrop of the moonlit glade.

_Camouflage ability…amazing. _

It had a distinctly leonine body, sleek, muscular, and supporting itself on four limbs. Its strange chameleon-like ability to shift its outward appearance made it difficult to tell if it had fur, feathers, or scales on its torso. But she could clearly see the long, terribly sharp beak extending from its face. It was currently tipped towards the ground. Erica's eyes traveled to the ground as well and her heart skipped. In a heap on the ground in front of the creature was a person. He or she was not moving and made no sounds of distress. That meant he or she was either dead, unconscious, or too traumatized to do anything about his or her predicament. Because of the shadowy conditions, Erica could not make out any blood or wounds. She needed to know whether the human was dead or alive, for that would definitely determine her next move. Her hand hovered over her wrist device.

The creature lowered its beak and prodded the human on the ground roughly. The poor fellow gave off a low moan riddled with agony and fear. He (for it sounded like a man) was still alive and it looked like he had earned himself a place on this beast's menu. Well, no meal would be had if Erica had any say in the matter. Her hand snapped away from her wrist and went to the crossbow. Her finger threaded through the trigger mechanism. She had a clear shot from where she stood and the distance was well within range of a bolt. A strange apprehension welled up within her, causing the hand which aimed the crossbow to tremble.

What was wrong with her? Now was not the time to second-guess herself or hesitate. This was the moment she had been waiting for! But now that she was here, confronted with the opportunity to take on an entirely new threat all on her own, she found herself battling the insidious tendrils of doubt and fear. What if she failed? That was something which had not crossed her mind before.

_Shoot it, you idiot, otherwise that man is mince meat! Literally!_

She steeled herself and took her shot. The bolt zipped through the air and punctured straight through one of those enormous leathery wings. The creature reared up on its haunches, releasing an enraged wail. This shriek, filled with a mixture of pain, shock, and anger, was even more powerful than its first cry and Erica felt like her skull was about to split in two. The crossbow tumbled from her hands as she instinctively reached up to cover her ears in a vain attempt to block out the screech. The creature's cry vibrated in her skull and she felt like it was pushing her brain out through her ears to make room for itself. It was immensely painful. She inadvertently stumbled backwards and, in a display of clumsiness not normally found within a naturally dexterous Slayer, fell over a stump.

If the crossbow bolt tearing through its wing had not announced her presence, her humiliating and completely _unprofessional_ fall certainly betrayed it. By some small mercy the beast's wail died off, but it still echoed within the confines of Erica's skull. Her ears continued to ring long after the fact and there was a distinct sensation of wetness trickling out of them. But she had no time to worry about the possibility of temporary hearing impairment. The girl barely had time to recover her senses before she felt more than heard the thuds on the ground. She glanced up to see the creature charging toward her, its golden eyes filled with maddened hunger and pain. The large talons on its paws tore up great chunks of earth, roots and leaf litter from the forest floor. Erica had only seconds to make a somewhat clumsy but effective evasive maneuver. She rolled off to the side at the last possible moment, allowing the beast's considerable momentum to carry it into the thick foliage.

Standing proved to be difficult and her surroundings spun before her eyes. She had the feeling that she was on a rocking boat. This was not a welcome development. Had that creature's ear splitting cry also disturbed her equilibrium? She stumbled over to where her crossbow lay by the tree, falling to her knees as her balance gave way. The world abruptly steadied then and she breathed a sigh of relief.

Most of her bolts had spilled out of her quiver when she had fallen and she did not want to take the time to try to retrieve them from the forest floor. She snatched up her crossbow and quickly turned to face the beast, which was snarling angrily at the branches it had become entangled with. She withdrew one of the few remaining bolts from the quiver. Feeling as if she had the upper hand once more, a triumphant smirk broke out on her blood-drained face. The triumph was short-lived. Before she could even draw the bow string back to secure the bolt in the stock, tree branches snapped as if they were dried kindling and the beast flew at her

It slammed Erica to the ground, growling and snapping its terrifying razor-edged beak. She desperately pressed her hands against its neck, dimly noting that it was coated with fur and a fringe of soft, downy feathers. It took nearly all her super-empowered strength to hold the creature at bay enough to keep its beak from tearing into her throat. Her ears still rung terribly, muting out the external sounds. Her heart was pounding furiously, no longer powered by exhilaration but by honest to god fear that this battle may not only end up with her on the losing end, but with her six feet under the ground.

Erica drove her boot up into what she believed to be its groin, vaguely hoping it might be a male with external, and, therefore, vulnerable, genitalia. She laid kick after kick into its underbelly until the beast rose up on its haunches, seemingly more annoyed than injured. She then pulled both her legs to her chest and lashed out with a powerful double kick. The beast retreated by a few feet. Seizing the opportunity of having freed hands, Erica wasted no time flipping the small switch on the underside of her wrist device. She had just activated her distress signal. Her bravado from before had been thoroughly shattered by the utter realization that she was no match for this creature alone. As loathe as she was to admit it, she would need assistance to take this thing down. With her distress signal being sent to base, other Slayers would hopefully arrive shortly to do just that.

The only question was: would she survive until then?

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><p><em>I swear, Hatter and Alice will show up in the next chapter! Feedback would be glorious!<em>


	2. Fight or Flight, Part II

**Here they are, just as I promised! I want to also FOREWARN some readers who may or may not possess delicate sensibilities (I don't know, it's possible) that this chapter will contain some graphic descriptions of gore and the aftermath of some bloody violence as well as a little borderline M-rated foreplay-but not enough to make it a companion piece. So USE DISCRETION when reading this and all that jazz. Oh and I split POV's in this chapter. I think that'll happen more often in this story than it did in the first one. Line breaks denote either a scene change or a change of POV. Capiche?**

**Many thanks once again to Alaina Downs who provided some excellent guidance during the planning for this story and continues to do so. Also RleFay suggested an idea which I totally had to run with about Hatter and Lorne hitting it off. So a shout-out of thanks to her as well!**

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><p><strong>Fight or Flight, Part II<strong>

The attack was relentless. Beads of perspiration rolled down Hatter's forehead as he blocked and parried the blows directed at him, cursing as he was driven further and further back. He was losing this battle. His arm muscles quivered under the strain of fending off his assailant's merciless strikes. His opponent left him no opening for him to turn the tide, or, if there was an opening, it was swiftly recovered and he was again being forced into the retreat, ever on the defensive. He gritted his teeth, funneling his concentration into at least scoring one hit. Then he could at least claim a partial victory.

But then his feet were swept out from underneath him and he yelped as he crashed to the floor, sprawling onto his back. Something poked his sternum and he heaved a deep sigh of chagrin, his dark brown eyes traveling up the length of the wooden practice blade, the blunted tip pressed firmly into his chest.

"Kill point," his grinning sparring partner announced gratuitously from the other end of the sword.

"You cheated," Hatter declared petulantly.

Alice laughed, her blue eyes sparkling with mirth. She pulled the sword back and extended a hand to help pull him to his feet, which he grudgingly accepted. "Oh sweetie, being a sore loser doesn't suit you. And, as I recall, you were the one who told me not to go easy on you tonight," she reminded him.

"I said don't go easy on me, not bloody annihilate me," he mumbled.

His sparring partner and girlfriend laughed at him again, apparently deriving much amusement from having soundly thrashed him at swordplay yet again. Of course, he had only just started to learn how to wield a sword whereas she had been swinging the blade around since she had been fifteen years old. Not to mention she had supernatural skills to add to the arsenal. The odds had been stacked against him from the start, but he had hoped he might last longer in a mock-battle. Although he did have to admit he was lasting longer in the ring each and every time they sparred. The first few lessons had mainly consisted of Alice just casually disarming him with a flick of her wrists. At least now they had progressed past the point where Hatter lost his sword in the first thirty seconds. So even if he was unable to best her (to be honest, he was not sure if that was possible), he was at least improving.

"Hey, you lasted longer than any other guy would have," Alice noted.

Hatter smirked at that comment, picking up at the double entendre even if it had been unintended. "In more ways than one, love," he replied mischievously.

She snorted, shaking her head at him (but not disputing the matter, he noted with triumph) as she padded over to where their water bottles sat resting on one of the benches lining the wall. They were in one of the designated training rooms of the Samuel Mather Mansion, an estate owned by the International Organization of Slayers and Watchers and currently utilized as the base of operations for the Cleveland Hellmouth Slayers. The Organization also owned another mansion on Euclid Avenue just a few blocks down—the Howe Estate which served as the primary living quarters for most Cleveland-based Slayers. Alice was one of the few who did not live there. Officially, she still shared a townhouse with her mother elsewhere in the city. Unofficially, she lived with Hatter in the apartment which had once belonged to her former boyfriend-a fact which he constantly tried to forget.

This training room was meant for a broad spectrum of combat training. It was spacious and had several large windows to allow an ample amount of natural light during the daytime hours. Numerous types of weaponry hung on pegs upon the dark paneled walls or in weapons racks stationed throughout the room. The floor was covered with thick padding to help cushion and absorb impacts during sparring sessions and there was even a large section of the wall overlaid with shock-absorbing padding.

Neither Hatter nor Alice wore any shoes. He was dressed in a pair of gray sweat pants and a white t-shirt which adhered to his sweaty skin, outlining his wiry frame. Alice wore form-fitting spandex which he would swear on his hat was created for the sole purpose of distracting him with lusty thoughts, thus ensuring he could never keep his mind completely on the task at hand. Honestly, the girl might as well have been naked. She was not even wearing a proper top, though he was certainly not going to complain. It was only a black sports bra that concealed her breasts, leaving her firm, toned torso bare for his eyes to feast upon. He admired the curve of her back, his eyes rounding out around her perfectly taut buttocks bound up in black spandex. They had the training room to themselves for the night, or so Alice had led him to believe. He licked his lips as a wicked thought came to him.

"So, want to have another go with the swords or did you want to practice some hand-to-hand?" she asked, seemingly oblivious to the way in which he was ogling her in her delectable training garb and the resultant physical effect it was having on him.

He ambled up behind her and pulled him flush against her, dropping the practice sword to the padded floor. He reveled in the shiver which trembled through her form as he pressed his noticeable bulge up against her buttocks, letting her feel his arousal.

"I think a little hand-to-hand might be nice," he whispered hotly right next to her ear while placing one hand on her bottom and the other gliding around to her flat stomach. He emphasized his unspoken desires by nipping at the tip of her earlobe.

"Hatter, this is my place of work," she protested feebly. But her body melted against his almost immediately, showing her desires did not exactly agree with her words.

"Makes it even more fun. And don't tell me it would be the first time. I've spent the past four months around you Slayers-I know how you birds work by now." His hands continued to roam as he spoke. He squeezed one of her cheeks and let his fingers dip underneath the waistband of her spandex capris. "I'm sure Maire and Jason get in a quickie here every now and again. Aren't they always 'training'?"

"_Not_ exactly what I want to be picturing," Alice admonished him breathily. He could tell his stroking was affecting her by the way her breathing had changed, the goosebumps spreading on her skin, and the rosy tinge developing into a full blown flush.

He thrust his hips against her, which elicited a gasp and a thud as her own practice blade dropped to the floor. "Stop, we shouldn't," she moaned. It was not a moan of protest which issued from her lips, however.

"Oh I know you don't mean that," he said huskily. His hand was now underneath her panties as well as the spandex capris, inching its way further down.

Alice suddenly bent forward, which, initially, Hatter took as an invitation and he grinned with anticipation as she pressed her bum against his erection. But then he was catapulted up and over her, flipping on the way down to land on his back upon the thick mats.

"Oi, that was low!" he shouted. His gray sweats were still sporting a distinct tent formation. He did not know whether it was a good sign or a bad sign that his arousal proved to be undiscouraged by the full body slam his girlfriend had visited upon him. Those were implications about himself that he might ponder another time.

Alice just chuckled as she stood over him. Then she crouched down to straddle his hips, sliding her hands up his chest. Her blue eyes were like dark pools of ocean water, glinting with the familiar essence of desire. She leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his. The kiss was innocent enough at first, just a little meshing of the lips. But then it was like a switch had been flipped and their tongues swept out to collide with each other. Hatter pulled himself up into a sitting position and wrapped his arms around his girl while Alice grabbed onto both sides of his face, gripping it with a peculiar desperation. Her fingers wound through his dark, unruly hair. He would have followed suit with her hair had it not been pulled up into a ponytail. But it did leave her neck bare for him to trail nips and kisses, hitting all the right pressure points. Four months of dating had taught him all he needed to know about his girlfriend's body and how he could play it like a finely tuned instrument. And yet there was always more to learn, more to explore. Every time with Alice was like a journey of discovery, and he applied himself to this discipline like he had never applied himself to any subject in school before.

"Told you I know how you Slayers work," Hatter mumbled in between the heated kisses.

"Oh shut up and take your pants off, you," Alice retorted.

He had been about to oblige his lady love when the door to the training room burst open.

"Alice!"

_Fuck. Why didn't she lock that thing?_

The pair sprang apart, or, rather, Alice rolled off of him and to her feet in one seamless motion. Hatter pulled his knees up toward his chest and stayed with his bottom planted on the mats, hands splayed out behind him as he attempted to conceal his arousal from the newcomer. Although the man had walked in on them amidst a rather passionate lip lock so unless the bloke was incredibly dense (a fact Hatter knew to be quite the opposite, unfortunately) he probably could easily draw the conclusions.

"Hey, Jason…we…were…training," Alice stammered awkwardly. She threw a quick glance back at Hatter before turning back to the Watcher who had just entered the room, staring at the two of them with an expression somewhere between suspicion and amusement. "What's up?"

"Um…" It looked as if interrupting what had clearly _not_ been mere combat training had thrown the young man off his train of thought. Jason Knight was a Watcher, though the traditional role as the trainer and mentor of a single Slayer had become somewhat obsolete with the thousands of Slayers now active all over the world. He was one of the resident demonology and supernatural experts, fluent in several languages encompassing both demonic and human tongues. Simply put, he was part of the brains behind the operation to contain the evil of the hellmouth. But he occasionally acted as part of the muscle, for every Watcher came fully trained and proficient in hand-to-hand combat and the use of various types of weapons. With his laid-back attitude and wry sense of humor belying his genius level intellect, Hatter had liked him almost immediately. Jason was about the same height, but of a stockier build than the former tea shop owner. He had wavy, amber-brown hair and bright hazel eyes. He also dated one of the Slayers, an Irish girl by the name of Maire Fallon who happened to be one of Alice's closest friends.

"Jason?" Alice said impatiently, authority slipping into her tone. In spite of her age and small physical stature, Alice was second-in-command of the base. She did not usually exercise this authority, however. There really was no need. Hatter had noticed that the people working at this base, Slayer, Watcher, Wiccan witch or warlock, or other support staff operated and worked together with a natural ease and efficiency. Everyone knew their roles and the responsibilities those roles entailed without question and all were treated more or less equally, except perhaps for the newbies. But that was all part of the rite of passage, the cycle of life. Respect and privileges had to be earned. It was a lesson Hatter was all too familiar with and it was one which he recognized the need for.

"Uh…yeah, sorry, but I thought you might want to know, we received a distress signal from Erica a few minutes ago," the Watcher informed her, his brow knotting into a frown.

At first, Hatter did not comprehend the meaning behind that information. Then his eyes went wide with realization. Erica was Alice's charge, well, _former_ charge. Alice had approved her for release to patrol unsupervised almost two weeks ago so technically she was no longer the younger girl's mentor and supervisor. She must have been out taking advantage of her new status as a fully released Slayer and run into trouble. He rose to his feet, his arousal effectively dampened by the gravity of the situation and went to stand beside his girlfriend to lend his emotional support.

"Erica? _My_ Erica?" Alice repeated in disbelief.

Hatter understood her incredulity. He knew all about Erica's bullheaded refusals to follow orders or await reinforcements. There were many nights when he would hear Alice vent her frustration over Erica's dangerous proclivities after she would return home from patrolling with her. The girl seemed to have a knack for getting under Alice's skin in ways he had never seen before. Truth be told, he did find it somewhat amusing since he had often found himself in the same position with Alice back in Wonderland. If he had possessed a death wish, he would be given a mind to remind Alice that she had demonstrated some of those very same characteristics in Wonderland. He knew that would probably be ill-advised, however, and result in him sleeping on the very comfortable but horribly Alice-free leather couch. But he did accede that the situation in his homeland had called for different measures than what his girlfriend was accustomed to employing.

Jason nodded curtly. "And that's not the weird part. She's not even in a hotspot area like the Flats. She's at the lakefront. Her signal came from Wildwood Park."

Alice frowned in bewilderment. "What? The Wildwood? What the hell is she doing there? Nothing happens there. Well, nothing up our alley anyway."

The Watcher shrugged. "Beats me. But that's where the signal is coming from. We've already alerted the Slayers who are out. Maire's got her squad headed there now."

"It's probably a mistake. She probably forgot what the switch was for since she decided that she was never going to need it," Alice grumbled as she stomped over to where her day clothes were folded on a bench.

"Or she could actually be in trouble and figured out that she needed help," Hatter proposed carefully. "Which means job well done for you, I'd wager. Hadn't you been wanting her to get that in her head for months now?"

Jason respectfully turned away as Alice changed out of her training clothes and into her jeans and t-shirt. Hatter decided he may as well follow suit and peeled off his sweaty t-shirt and sweats. He stole a glance back at the mat where just a few minutes ago they had been about to embark on a fun, naked escapade. Regret at the lost opportunity welled up in him, but it was immediately doused with a potent blast of shame and guilt. This was not the time to lament the lost chance to have sex with Alice when, quite frankly, they could do that almost any time. A young girl's life could be at stake.

He actually was somewhat concerned for Erica, and not just for Alice's sake. He liked the kid even if she tried to pass herself off as this aloof, rebellious teenager. He saw past all that and recognized her for what she was-a girl who had been starved for love and approval. It was something he could relate to, having lost his entire family by the time he was fifteen years old. Of course she had never divulged anything about her past to him or to anyone, but he was particularly gifted at reading people and sensing their emotions-something which he had carried over from Wonderland. He had immediately picked up on the emotional conflict within the girl, so utterly different and yet so utterly similar to every other teenage girl's turmoil. With that in mind, he took care to complement and encourage Erica at every opportunity, trying to cater to her softer side by using his natural charms. It may have worked a little too well, on the other hand. The girl had developed quite the crush on him, a fact which Alice noticed and was intensely amused rather than threatened by. She even chastised Hatter occasionally for eating it up and stringing the poor girl along, though he felt he had done no such thing.

The trio made their way through the sumptuous corridors of the Mather Mansion towards what Hatter knew to be a supply room. It was stocked with all the equipment a Slayer would ever require to battle the forces of evil. Alice moved quickly, urgency and worry spurring her on to the point that Jason and Hatter had to jog to keep up with her strides in spite of the fact that she was shorter than them.

"Where was Maire?" Alice asked as she selected a few knives and strapped them to their leg, apparently not concerned with the fact that they would be in open view.

"Her group was just finishing a sweep of the Warehouse district," Jason replied.

"Is there anyone closer?" Alice inquired. She pulled a crossbow off one of the racks and slung a quiver of bolts over her back.

Jason sighed. "Shannon and Faith are the closest. They'll probably get there before you do."

Alice inhaled sharply and ran her hands over her scalp. She was clearly agitated now. Hatter knew she had debated with herself about releasing Erica and he was sure every doubt she had about it was now being resurrected in light of this new development. If anything happened to the girl, she would likely take the blame squarely on her shoulders. His heart ached for her. But even more than the sympathy he felt for her was the fear. Slayers were fearsome warriors and there was not much he had seen in his four months that could intimidate them. The hellmouth had been relatively quiet lately according to Alice and the other girls. What if it was now just waking up from its slumber and Erica had had the profound misfortune to be caught up in its yawning jaw? What did that portend for the rest of them? For Alice? He felt his stomach convulse.

"Alice, do you want me to come along?" Hatter queried in an neutral tone. He did not want her to see how worried he was.

She looked up at him as if suddenly remembering he was there. "No." She shook her head. "Better that you stay here or head back on home."

"But…" All his protests withered in his throat. What could he say that would sound like a convincing argument? He had learned how to fight and defend himself on the streets of Wonderland and he even had an enhanced right first which threw punches that had cracked marble pillars. But fighting demons and vampires demanded a completely different mindset and skill level, a level and mindset he had been diligently working to attain since he had been in Alice's world.

Alice gave him a weak smile. "Hatter, it's probably nothing. Don't worry about me."

She always said that, not to worry about her. But he did worry. She had one of the most dangerous jobs in the world and any time she went out on patrol or to join some battle she could be cruelly cut down in the line of duty, ripped from him without even a chance to say goodbye. As gifted, skilled, and experienced as she was, it would only take one lucky hit or misstep to cause his entire world to crumble. Never was that agonizing realization far from his thoughts, try as he did to bury it. She was careful, but she was also fiercely protective of her sister-Slayers, especially the ones she had mentored. If Erica was in trouble, Alice would do anything within her power to save her even if it might mean losing her own life in the process. It was a paradox for him. Her bold, self-sacrificing nature was one of the traits he loved and admired best about his Alice. But he also feared that trait, above all, would one day lead to her doom.

"Well if it's nothing, you shouldn't have a problem letting me come along," he countered as they walked out of the room towards the back entrance.

"But it might also _not_ be nothing," Alice pointed out. "It might be something bad enough to get Erica, the girl who decides it's a capital idea to take on a pack of twenty zombies by herself, to call for backup. And that is not something a civilian should be around."

He bridled at being called a civilian though it was the truth in most respects. But the way she said it made it sound like he was an incompetent child, unable to fend for or take care of himself.

"Uh, for the record, those weren't zombies. They were re-animated corpses, yes-" Jason cut in.

"Whatever, Jason!" Alice snapped. "Not important right now."

They stood at the back entrance, the door open and Alice poised at the threshold. She leaned forward to give Hatter the quick kiss of farewell with just enough tongue to whet his appetite. It was her way of promising him that she would return safe. His gut was too tied up in knots of dread and tension to allow the usual heat to coil up in his belly.

"Sweetie, I just feel you need more practice," she explained softly.

Hatter huffed and glanced off to the side. "Well, funny thing about practicing killing demons and vampires is you actually have to go out and kill the demons and vampires to get any practice at it. And as long as I've been here, you haven't let me do that once," he reminded her testily.

Alice threw her head back and groaned. "Just…can we argue about this later?"

"Jason, back me up here, mate," Hatter seethed, turning to his friend.

Jason held his hands up and backed away, looking for all the world like a borogove about to meet the end of a hunting spear. "Whoa, leave me out of this. I got my own Slayer girlfriend to contend with, man."

"Fine," Hatter spat with gritted teeth. "I'll just go home, draw up a nice, hot bath and a cup of tea for you while I twiddle my thumbs and wait." And with that said he turned on his heels and stalked away from the doorway, never seeing the wounded expression on his girlfriend's face.

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><p>Alice had to fight the urge to go after him. She did not want to leave to face some unknown threat with those bitter words hanging in the air, leaving a sour trail in their wake. But the clock was ticking for Erica and she had already lingered at the mansion for far longer than she had intended. Jason met her gaze and shrugged sympathetically before turning around to follow Hatter. Perhaps the easy-going Watcher could defuse her boyfriend's foul mood for her. Unfortunately, she did not have the time to make amends or offer explanations to Hatter. Actually, it was Erica who did not have the time. So she struck upon the difficult process of cutting herself off from her blustered emotions revolving around the small lovers' spat, leaving them at the door so she could do what she had to do.<p>

She swallowed thickly and wiped at her eyes which had grown wet with anger and guilt. She practically slammed the door shut behind her and headed towards the parking lot where a majority of the base-owned vehicles resided. Wildwood Park was a good ten miles from the mansion on Euclid Avenue. Even at Slayer speed, it would take too long to reach the area where her wayward and reckless former charge had inexplicably run afoul of something beyond her inflated opinion of her abilities to defeat. Alice never thought such a thing would have been possible. She had definitely noticed that Erica had spent just about every night patrolling through the city for hours by herself ever since she had been given the green light. Alice knew what she hunted for, what she yearned for. She wanted to make a name for herself. She wanted to be seen as something more than just a rookie Slayer. Alice understood that desire, but she did not know why the girl had to be so obstinate and careless about it. Erica was a walking, talking contradiction of personality traits. She was so incredibly proud and stubborn to the point where it had nearly gotten her killed on more than one occasion. Yet the girl struggled with low self-esteem and deep seated insecurities. She craved approval and admiration like a drug. But Erica shunned most social interactions and rebuffed almost all the attempts of her fellow Slayers to befriend her with her prickly, aloof attitude.

The young Slayer shook her head, sighing grimly as she pressed the unlock button on the remote to a sleek black Honda Civic, the car she normally chose to drive when on Slayer business. Trying to analyze her former protégé often gave her a headache. Hatter and Lorne seemed to be the privileged few who could coax a smile out of the girl. Regarding her own relationship with the younger Slayer, Alice could only say they had reached a point of cagey tolerance. Things had been somewhat tense between them when Alice denied her release upon the six-month review. Tense was probably an understatement. Erica had outright despised her after that. It was not as if she had denied the release on purpose. She truly had done what she had thought was best for the girl. In spite of Erica lacking a warm, engaging personality, Alice cared about the girl and was naturally protective of her. She would prefer Erica to hate her rather than have the girl die prematurely because she had been released before she was ready. There was a lot of potential in the kid. Potential that could be nurtured if the girl would just grow up.

_So glad those teen years are over for me. Yeesh. Not that adult life is any more glamorous or less angsty,_ Alice thought wryly. Unintentionally, her mind strayed back to Hatter and the way things had gone between them just minutes ago. She should have known he would never be content to just remain in the safety of the mansion or his apartment while she flocked from one dangerous engagement to another. Not only was that just not how her boyfriend operated, it was also not something she could reasonably expect of herself were their positions reversed. She knew he was afraid for her and wanted only to be there to protect her. He wanted to be part of her life, her _entire_ life and that was something she really could not begrudge him. But, then again, a life which involved the hunting and killing of undead and demonic beings demanded different rules and allowances. It was not a life which just anyone could be invited into. And she had not been able to devise a reasonable compromise just yet. Of course, she and Hatter had never discussed such a compromise.

She had hoped that working with him to hone his fighting skills to emulate the Slayer style would appease him, thus serving as this compromise she had been searching for. But no such luck. And, really, if she was entirely honest with herself, she should have known he would not be content with just knowing how to fight demons and vampires. He was the kind of man who liked to utilize his skills. That was what he had done back in Wonderland. He had put his considerable repertoire of talents and skills to use to aid the Resistance effort against the tyrannical Queen of Hearts. She had been quite impressed with his level of resourcefulness and adaptability—all traits valued in a Slayer, she had to note. He was used to being "the one they always pass the hat to". In other words, he was accustomed to being useful to everyone, to being important and valuable. Crossing the Looking Glass did not erase that part of him. Alice tried to make him see that he was valuable to her. But being her emotional support was not enough for him and she had to grudgingly admit such a thing would not be enough for her either. He wanted to take a more active role with her Slayer life and she was afraid to let him do that. Simply put, she could not bear the thought of him coming to harm or worse. She was quite aware that this was selfish and presumptuous of her, but knowing that did not make her fears any less real or powerful.

_When was the last time anything was simple? _

In any case, Hatter would just have to stew in his own resentment for a little while without her. Likewise she would just have to put those thoughts aside to focus on the task at hand. As she drove at patently illegal speeds she switched on the police radar detector and radio. Voices from the numerous first responder agencies such as emergency medical services, the fire department and the police department blared out of the car's speakers, but none of them giving any indication of anything out of the ordinary. Well, nothing out of the ordinary for Cleveland anyway. Therefore, if Erica had come across something truly threatening, it had not made its presence known to the general populace quite yet. She could not decide if that boded well or ill for the situation.

Her cell phone chirped insistently and Alice fished it out of her pocket with one hand while keeping the other firmly grasped upon the steering wheel. Faith's name flashed brightly on the display. Faith Lehane was one of the two original Slayers along with Buffy Summers, and she was the commander of the Slayers upon the Cleveland Hellmouth Base. That technically made her Alice's direct superior. But the two tended to operate far more on the level of equals. The chain of command protocol was treated mostly as a formality.

"Hey, I'm on my way. Coming up to Villa Angela Drive now," Alice said as soon as she answered, skipping over the usual preamble to telephone conversations.

"You better haul ass. We just got here and there's something in the woods. Something big, bad, and pissed off," Faith informed her grimly.

Alice's heart plummeted. _Well, so much for it being an accidental distress call. _"Have you gotten a good look at it?"

"Naw, but Shannon and I sure got an earful of it. Felt like my skull was damn near going to split in two," the older Slayer replied. Her voice, crackly though it was with the spotty reception she probably received in the Wildwood, was coated with apprehension and dread.

Alice picked a spot at random on Villa Angela Drive to pull over and park the car. She would not be able to take the car much further since the road would become a boardwalk that prohibited access to vehicles. She snapped off her seatbelt and snatched up the crossbow sitting in the passenger seat. Cell phone still firmly pressed to her ear, she stepped out into the balmy night air, pearls of sweat that had nothing to do with the heat oozing out of her pores.

"What about Erica? Have you seen her? Is she okay?" Alice asked while she slammed the door shut and locked the car. She steeled her senses and spread them out wide. From what Faith was telling her, it did not sound like this was a typical hellmouth denizen. It sounded like something new. For Slayers, new usually did not come with a positive connotation. The hairs on the back of her neck rose as her senses stirred in warning. Faith was right. There was something in the woods. Something which had never come across her sixth sense radar before.

_Well, that can't be good._

"We haven't found her. We did find a guy whose arm looks like it just went through a meat grinder. He's incoherent, probably going into shock. We can't get anything useful out of him right now. Is Reeta with Maire's group? Because I think we may need her to take care of him," said Faith. In the background, Alice could make out the moans of a human being in extreme pain.

"I don't know. Jason didn't say. Where are you? I'm coming into the woods now," Alice told her as she scanned the area. Thick brambles and bushes lined the roadway and the tree tops above swayed in a gentle breeze. The woods were pitch black with only intermittent spots of weak illumination from the hazy night sky breaking through the canopy layer. Alice slung her crossbow over her shoulder and dug a flashlight out of her pocket.

"Fuck, I don't know. We're in the middle of the woods. It's not like there are exactly road signs. Follow the shouts of pain," Faith replied sarcastically.

In spite of the acutely warm and sticky air, Alice felt a nauseous cold descend upon her as she entered the woods, swiping her flashlight beam in front of her. A sense of wrongness permeated the atmosphere. Slayers spent their lives combating things which were largely considered to be abominations of nature (i.e. vampires). This felt like something that had started out as a natural, innocent creature and then, through some horrible event, had become warped and twisted into something monstrous. In fact, if she had had the opportunity to delve further into this sensation, she would almost say she had encountered something eerily similar not too long ago.

"Wait, Shannon's found something," Faith's tinny voice cut in. There was a lot of rustling and swearing on the other end coupled with some strange, unfamiliar growls. "Oh shi-!"

The call cut off, but a piercing shriek rent the air and Alice dropped her flashlight and cell phone as the cry tore into her skull. She clapped her hands tightly to her ears and stumbled forward, crying out in pain and shock. Faith certainly had not been exaggerating when she claimed that her skull had felt like it was about to split in two. Alice felt like there was a jackhammer pounding at the inner confines of her cranium. She could barely walk a straight line and ended up crashing shoulder-first into a tree. The girl dropped to her knees, clutching her head and groaning.

The eldritch scream stopped and the pain dropped in intensity, but it still took a few moments of deep inhalations for Alice to recover from the attack. She hoped she was close to Faith, Shannon, and whatever it was the creature was supposed to be. She did not even want to consider the implications if the creature was able to incapacitate a Slayer so effortlessly and completely at a distant range. Her ears rang as she made an attempt to stand, clutching at the tree for support. The world spun around her and her stomach flipped over as if she were suffering a bout of seasickness though she was standing in the middle of the woods on solid ground.

She gulped in air and fought to steady herself against the tree. "Attack with vertigo," she mused dryly. "Super effective." Something wet and sticky slid out of her nose and she instinctively reached up to wipe it away. Her finger came away smeared with blood.

Even with her senses so stunned and disoriented, Alice forced herself to retreat to find her flashlight and phone. The ringing in her ears dulled and muted all the sounds around her so that she could not even hear her own footsteps. It was highly unsettling to be handicapped thus. Hopefully it would only be temporary. The vertigo gradually slackened off as she found her flashlight and her slim blue phone a few feet away. She pocketed the phone, not seeing any use for it with her ears continually ringing. It seemed logical to expect that Faith and Shannon had gotten hit with that sonic blast as well if Faith's last words on the phone were any indication. That probably meant she was very close to them.

She used her preternatural senses, those possessed only by Slayers and other supernaturally gifted beings, to suss them out. Faith and Shannon's dual "signals" directed her towards the edge of the woods only a few yards ahead toward the marina. She could not sense any other Slayers in the area, which made her stomach knot up with dread. It meant she could not detect Erica. But there were perfectly reasonable and non-lethal explanations for that. Erica could have vacated the area before anyone had arrived. She hoped that was the case. The other reasons for being unable to detect Erica's unique Slayer signature were not ones Alice particularly wanted to explore.

Shannon's svelte form came into view and the other Slayer turned when Alice's flashlight beam passed over her. The girl was standing by a fallen tree, Faith kneeling on the other side. Alice stopped short at the chalk-white expressions of horror on their faces. The only real color on their faces were the small streams of red flowing from their noses. Shannon's hands were painted in crimson and they were shaking badly. There was an acrid tang of blood and viscera filling her nostrils all the way down her throat, making her want to gag.

"Alice…we found her," Shannon informed her. The sound was muffled since her ears had not yet regained their full hearing capacity, but she could detect the trembling shock and anguish in it all the same. The lead weight in her gut solidified and very nearly dragged her to the ground on her knees. But she steeled herself and forced her legs to carry her, one step at a time, to where Faith knelt on the other side of the fallen tree.

They _had_ found Erica…what was left of her. Alice felt a second wave of vertigo sweep her under and she was forced to quickly sit down on the tree. She wanted to look away from the grisly scene, but her blue eyes could not seem to follow the directive. The girl had been eviscerated. Her gut had been slit open and there was a string of mangled entrails on the ground spanning a couple of feet, staining the idyllic greenery deep red. As if the disembowelment was not enough, Erica's throat had a crude, jagged gash cutting deep enough to completely sever both carotid arteries. It was impossible to tell, at this moment, which mortal wound she had received first. Alice hoped the one to the throat had been dealt out first because then it would mean the girl had died a swift death. It was too much to bear to think that her former charge had been alive when her foe tore into her stomach and ripped out her insides. The pain would have been excruciating.

Erica's face was mercifully untarnished save for the few splatters of blood. Her mouth was closed and her eyes were open, the olive green orbs now glassy and vacant. Alice normally had those eyes looking upon her with thinly veiled anger and bitterness and often wished that look would go away. But now she would give anything to have those eyes glare at her once more. Erica had been so young, so inexperienced. She had not deserved this. No one deserved this.

Tears rolled down Alice's white cheek. "Oh my god," she choked out, pulling her hand to her mouth as she beat back the urge to vomit. "Oh god…Erica."

Faith slowly inhaled and looked up at Alice. Her brown eyes were rimmed with red. "It got away. We found it crouched over her. Well, crouched over the tree. Didn't know she was on the other side of it, but we could smell the blood. We both shot at it and it did that screech thing again only worse and then it just flew off." The older Slayer shuddered and wiped at her clammy brow with the back of her hand. Her palms were slathered with blood.

"Flew?" Alice croaked. Her throat was constricted with bile. It was difficult to speak lucidly.

Faith nodded, her lips pursed tightly.

Alice waved away the implications and questions about a foe that apparently not only possessed the ability to incapacitate its opponents with a mere shriek, but also had flight capabilities. It was just too overwhelming at that precise moment when one of their Slayers had been essentially ripped open and feasted upon. It was something she knew she would have to deal with later, however. Jason and the rest of the research team would need a composite description to be able to ascertain what had just killed Erica. But that description would have to come from Shannon and Faith, as Alice had not gotten a glimpse of the thing.

"Maire's group is here," Shannon announced in a deadened voice.

Faith acknowledged her with a robotic nod, her eyes still trained upon the brutalized body of Erica. "Take them over to that guy. He's still alive. We can't help Erica now."

Alice closed her eyes at those final words. When she opened them again Faith was standing over her, looking down at her with concern. She reached out a hand to grasp Alice's shoulder.

"Are you all right?" Faith asked.

"I'll live," replied Alice.

She knelt down next to Erica's head and brushed a few golden strands of hair away from her eyes. Breath stubbornly withheld, she pulled the lids down over the girl's empty green eyes and then fell back on her haunches, staring sadly down at her former charge.

"Eighteen years old, Faith. She was just a kid. Just a girl," she said forlornly.

"I know," was Faith's gentle response. She was grateful her friend had not made the usual comment that this was just something one had to expect in their vocations. Even though that was true, it did not help the situation or make the grief any easier to bear.

Alice rose to her feet and then followed Faith away from Erica's broken body to meet with the rest of the Slayers and deliver the devastating news.

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><p><strong>I warned you! This story will definitely have a darker, more complex tone to it than ASiW so just bear that in mind when you're reading it. I don't do pure fluff. If that's what you're looking for, you are barking up the wrong tree. Gotta have darkness to appreciate the light.<strong>

**Also all the places and landmarks I named actually do exist in Cleveland. I did my research because I'm cool like that. Obviously, for purposes of the story, some of the descriptions might be inaccurate or exaggerated, but, hey, that's the beauty of fanfiction and I would assume things would be different in a Cleveland on a hellmouth anyway.**

**So please send some comments my way to tell me what you thought! Feedback is our bread and butter!**


	3. Fight or Flight, Part III

**Oh my, please do forgive the excessive lateness of this posting. I got seriously bogged down in supplemental/secondary applications for medical school and then my social life seemed to explode (in a good way). So on top of work, I was just not home that often. I hope you all can forgive me :( I want to thank those who had reviewed the last chapter and who have added the story to their favorites and/or alert lists!**

**Also, many thanks to Alaina Downs who provided a lot of help for this chapter especially when I was just stuck with where to go with it. Make sure you all check out her fic "La Belle Dame sans Merci" because it is dark and full of awesomeness.**

**Alaina Downs and Chibi-Kaz also made some excellent suggestions for pictures for the story using ALP's newest movie "Vampyre Nation". When I get the time, I will definitely be adding screen shots from that to my photobucket account.**

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><p><strong>Fight or Flight, Part III<strong>

Hatter stared at the glass in front of him, his expression set between revulsion and determination. The glass contained a particularly vile smelling amber colored liquid that made his stomach jolt in warning just staring at it. The drink had not even touched his lips and already his body was rejecting it. But the allure for the numbness the magical liquid would bring was very attractive to him at the moment. He wanted…needed…something to drown out the fiery maelstrom of emotions he was caught up in. He craved numbness right now and Wild Turkey 101 was one of the quickest ways to get him there outside of Numbness Tea. He figured it was very nearly the same thing. Wonderland had the Tea. Earth had hard liquor. Close enough.

Alcoholic beverages were a fairly new experience for Hatter. It was not that they did not exist in Wonderland. But the quantity and variety of spirits his home world had to offer paled in comparison to what could be found in his new world. Certainly there had been little need for alcoholic drinks when there was already a liquid which could alter or inspire one's perceptions and emotions dominating the market. Alice had introduced him to the wonderful world of alcohol by making him a delightful mixed drink called a Jolly Rancher. He learned how to whip up cocktails in less time than it took him to figure out how to use his smart phone, even developing some completely new concoctions that landed him the job tending bar at the karaoke bar and nightclub he now sat within.

He drummed his fingers on the table, still wavering on whether or not he should actually drink that whiskey straight. But then the words he had hurled at Alice just before she left to go on a potentially dangerous mission returned to him. His gut clenched painfully. Guilt, worry, and self-directed anger bore down on him without mercy. He reached for the glass and tipped it back, swallowing the entire contents in one gulp. His gag reflex tried to protest, but he forced himself to swallow. The whiskey burned a pathway down his throat, filling his nostrils with its powerful odor and making his eyes water. He slapped his hand down on the table and coughed once all the whiskey had safely traveled to his stomach. His stomach was not thrilled to receive the beverage.

"Geez, must have been a real bad night for you to be willing to put yourself through that torture. I can't even get drunk and that stuff makes me gag," someone spoke from behind him in a bemused voice.

Hatter flicked a look back over his shoulder, though he knew perfectly well who was standing behind him at the bar. It was his boss, the proprietor of _Caritas Dos_. As far as bosses go, Krevlornswath—who preferred to go by Lorne—was rather…unconventional. But, then again, by the standards of Cleveland, Ohio, having a boss with green skin, spiky bronze hair, crimson eyes, and two small horns on his forehead was probably just hovering around normal. What was probably unconventional about it was the fact that such a boss had an urbane taste in clothing and an unusual fondness for musical theatre and Sea Breeze cocktails. In fact, he was sipping on a Sea Breeze right now as he regarded Hatter with an expression crossed between amusement, bafflement, and concern.

"I don't even need to ask you to sing to know that you're sending out waves of emotional distress. Where's your drinking buddy?" Lorne asked, settling himself beside Hatter on the stool next to him.

"Oh, Jason? The restroom, I think," Hatter replied.

Jason had accompanied him here. Well, he had actually suggested they come out here rather than Hatter going back to his apartment alone and then he had driven the both of them over. Hatter still only had a learner's permit. Besides, once he was through with this place, it would probably not be a smart thing for him to be behind the wheel of a car.

"Had an argument with Alice, didn't you?" Lorne stated knowingly.

He remained silent. The last thing he wanted to talk about was how he had really messed up back at the mansion. He had not meant to let his frustration get the better of him. But his pride and his temper had been pricked and he had been unable to keep from lashing out. It was clear that his command of self-control was far worse than his command of the practice blade. He should have bitten back those comments and sent Alice off with a reassuring embrace and kiss. Now the one thing he kept thinking about—and the one thing he desperately tried not to think about—was that his caustic words to her might be the last words he would ever say to her. There was no way to know the reason Erica had activated her distress signal. It could have been a mistake. It could have even been a prank…though he somehow doubted Erica was the trickster type. But in the pit of his stomach, in the darkest corners of his heart, he knew it was neither of those reasons. Somehow he could just taste it on the air that Erica had flipped that switch for a good reason-and his girlfriend was going out there to face it. What if she did not…No. He could not even complete that thought in his mind. It was almost like thinking it into a complete sentence rather than just abstractly acknowledging the possibility without giving true form to it would make it more real. His eyes burned in warning and he blinked rapidly. But that horrible thought cut its way through his crudely constructed barriers of denial. He had to face the fact that Alice may not return from that mission alive. And he would never be able to take those words back. Never be able to make it right.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck_

As much as he did not want to relive the moments, his mouth seemed to move of its own accord and he found himself telling the demon everything. Ironically, Lorne had a strange habit of setting people at ease and making them feel comfortable unloading their deepest personal troubles. Alice always said she thought their demon friend had missed his calling as a shrink. Hatter had then had to have her explain to him what a "shrink" was, and it apparently had nothing to do with changing one's size. But the comparison certainly made a lot more sense afterwards.

He told Lorne about the incident at the mansion earlier that evening and his mounting frustration with being repeatedly marginalized when the Slayers rallied for a supernatural call to arms. His friend listened without interruption, his blood-red eyes softened with compassion and understanding. All the bitterness he had tried to tamp down for the past few weeks bubbled to the surface and spilled over. He did not even notice the point when Jason had returned, scraping the stool on the floor to take his seat on the other side of Hatter with a nod of acknowledgement to Lorne.

"It's just, I'm not bloody incompetent, you know. I ran the fucking Tea House as a double agent for almost ten years back in Wonderland when the wrong move could have lost me my head any day. I was the one everyone in the Resistance would always pass the hat to. I know how to handle myself. And she treats me like I'm…"

"Precious," Lorne offered flatly.

Hatter scowled at him. "You're supposed to be on _my_ side," he complained.

Lorne held up his green hands in surrender. "Hey, I am! Well…" he backtracked, "I'm on both sides. Because I can honestly see where she's coming from, too. Don't forget, I've known that girl a long time and she would always end up here right after all those boy troubles. And wow did that girl have boy troubles." He chuckled humorlessly and drained the rest of his glass. "Talk about commitment issues. She once dumped a guy because he wrote her a love poem. It wasn't bad either. A little on the sappy side…"

Jason cleared his throat while Hatter's scowl took on a murderous edge. "Ehm, Lorne, that's…eh…not really helping."

Alarm filled the demon's red eyes. "Not that any of them were as great as you," he quickly added with contrition. "And I've read the both of you during your little drunken duets-very lovely they are, by the way. Nothing's set in stone, but it seems like you two are stuck with one another. May the Powers help us all."

Hatter's annoyance receded somewhat under Lorne's reassurance. But it did not purge the guilt and frustration wallowing in his heart.

"Look, Hatter, think about the real reason you want to go out there to fight demons with Alice. What is it?" asked Lorne.

The man frowned. "There are lots of reasons. I feel useless, for one. I can't stand waiting around wondering if she's alive or dead. I want to make sure she's safe…I want to protect…" He stopped himself and then sighed. He suddenly found he understood part of the reason Alice was so resistant to the idea of him taking a more active, hands-on role in fighting evil on the hellmouth. It was dangerous and she wanted to protect him just as he wanted to protect her. Their mutual desires to protect one another were promoting a conflict of interests. No wonder he was so frustrated.

"I know what you're going through, Hatter. I've been there," Jason cut in, laying a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "I'm not sure how things were run back in Wonderland, but around here the Slayers pretty much call the shots when it comes to the hellmouth. You think_ I_ particularly like having to watch Maire walk out into battle? It kills me every time, knowing there's a chance she might not come back. But it's just something you have to learn to deal with when your girlfriend is a Slayer. It kind of comes with the territory. You either accept it or…" He let the sentence dangle there unfinished.

"Well, you're a Watcher," Hatter said tightly. "You at least are brought in to help fight sometimes.

"Yeah, well, I've also been there for a few years. You've only been here a few months, Hatter. You just have to be patient. Give them time to see what you're made of. But trust me I went through the same frustrations in the first few months of dating Maire. You and Alice just need to reach a compromise that works for the two of you," said Jason.

Hatter digested those words for a few moments. Jason and Maire did seem to have things worked out and he felt extremely insensitive for overlooking how similar his situation was to the other man's.

"Also, Hatter, you have to consider how big a change this is for Alice," Lorne added. "She's used to things being very simply divided. Her Slayer life and her non-Slayer life. Well, now her mother knows about it, her father is back and _he_ knows about it, and _you_ know about it. Her two worlds have collided. Not that it's necessarily a bad thing, but three extra people to fuss and worry over her when she's a girl who does _not_ like to be fussed and worried over…it gets a little overwhelming. You have to tread carefully with this one. That you've managed to get her to live with you and sing sappy love songs to each other in public is a miracle in and of itself. Don't push your luck by trying to push her too quickly. She'll let you in on her own time and no one else's."

Hatter dropped his forehead to the table and groaned. Lorne was right. He was always right. Alice did have a lot to deal with right now as far as her non-Slayer life went. The reunion of her parents had not been the romantic event they had hoped for. Alice's mother had let go of her husband a long time ago. It was the only way she could move on and take care of her child alone. Now her world was opening up fast. Too fast. She had learned the truth about Alice's dangerous occupation (on top of learning that vampires and demons were real) on the same night she learned that her husband had been alive all along in an alternate dimension and was soon to return home. Those were huge mind-blowing revelations on their own merits let alone put together. Carol had not spoken to her daughter for over a week. That had been a heart-wrenching blow to his girlfriend, who had always been so close to her mother. He had done the best he could to comfort and reassure her. Then Mr. Hamilton had come through the Looking Glass on the appointed time and it seemed he had just brought another heap of awkwardness and tension with him. Carol was happy to see him, but it was not the kind of happiness that sends one sailing into the arms of her beloved in joyful tears of relief. It was a reserved, strained happiness on top of an ocean of conflicting emotions she had bravely tried to mask. And things had not really improved so far. Robert stayed at the townhouse with Carol, but he slept in Alice's room. As much as he wanted things to mend between his girlfriend's parents, he was certainly not going to complain about an extra excuse for Alice to continue living with him.

"I'm such an arse," he moaned while running his hands through his spiky brown hair.

"Oh don't beat yourself up. You're just frustrated and worried. It's only natural," Jason reassured him with a pat on the back.

Lorne ordered a round of Sea Breezes on the house. Hatter's head was buzzing pleasantly once he finished the cocktail. His drink had been quite a bit more potent than normal and he was grateful for it. The alcohol loosened the tension in his limbs and chest and capped the well of negative emotions, putting a wall between him and the feelings he just did not feel like dealing with at the moment. No wonder people became so addicted to it. This was basically Earth's version of the Teas. The only difference being that it did not involve the exploitation and destruction of human personality and life to create it.

After he finished the strong Sea Breeze, Jason bought him a Jack and Coke with double the amount of Jack Daniels than normal.

"One thing you do have to come to terms with is that _we_ are not Slayers. Ultimately, there will be battles which we just can't directly take part in. All we would do is be a distraction to our girls and we could get them killed for it. We need them to stay focused on the task on hand and not worrying about us. Their lives are more important than our male pride," Jason intoned gravely. His hazel eyes regarded him with fierce intensity.

"I know," Hatter replied in a resigned voice. "I know I'm not a Slayer. But I'm not exactly a normal human either." He unconsciously flexed his right fist as he spoke. His enhanced right arm still remained a secret. Alice had told him it was for him to decide when or if he wanted everyone else to know that he possessed the ability to crack a marble pillar with just one punch. That could, essentially, be the game changer for him. He could show it off to Faith, who was the only one on the base who out-ranked Alice and could overrule his girlfriend. But then Alice would probably not appreciate his going behind her back and deceiving her like that. It could destroy their relationship if he did that. He would be furious if she did something like that to him were their positions reversed. So that idea was vetoed as soon as it was conceived.

Jason frowned in bafflement. "Well, yeah, you're from Wonderland and you have that weird…emotion sensing thing..."

The buzzing in Hatter's head intensified and that wonderful combination of weightlessness, invulnerability, and jollity descended down upon him like a warm cloak. "Ooooh yeah, that's a dead useful ability. It's the next best thing to being able to read minds. But I have to tune it out around all those Slayers because wow…women's emotions are all over the place _all the time_. Did I tell you about when I first met Alice? I didn't even have to see her to feel that she was like feeling five different things at once. That would make normal Wonderlanders _explode_!" His lips curled up into a wide grin. "But she was all dripping wet and gorgeous and wearing this lovely blue dress. And she was pissed off…she was pissed off a lot in the beginning ha ha. But damn did it make her even more gorgeous. I wanted to shag her from the minute I saw her."

Lorne held up his hand while Jason just snorted in laughter. "Um, I'm going to request that you don't elaborate on the…shagging…part. I love you guys, but there are some things I just don't need to know."

"Speaking of shagging, when are you going to find yourself a girlfriend?" Hatter asked in a jumbled mess of slurred syllables. Then he frowned. "Or boyfriend…whatever you're into."

The demon did not immediately answer that question. He slugged back the rest of what was probably his fifth Sea Breeze and set the glass down on the bar. Unlike humans, Lorne did not have the capacity to become intoxicated from normal alcoholic beverages. "I'm perfectly content being single. I'll just live vicariously through you."

Hatter vigorously shook his head. Then he immediately regretted it. The club room spun right before his eyes. "No! No…we should find you someone. I'll have you know that I think you are quite handsome and if I was a girl or gay man, I'd be interested. I know what you need!"

"Lots of make up?" Lorne muttered dryly.

Hatter grabbed his porkpie hat off the bar counter and settled it on Lorne's head with a satisfied grin. The brim of the hat just skimmed the points of the demon's forehead horns.

Jason cracked up at the sight and immediately pulled his phone out to snap a picture. "The girls will love this one."

"We'll have them lining up!" Hatter declared.

While still being held up in midair, Jason's phone began to ring. In a split second the young Watcher's expression transitioned from heartily amused to stone-cold serious. "It's Maire," he breathed, unable to hide the note of relief in his voice that his girlfriend was safe and well enough to place a phone call.

It was amazing how the tide could turn at the drop of a hat or the ring of a phone. A stone dropped in Hatter's gut, dragging down his cheerful mood to leave a quivering sense of dreadful anticipation in its wake. Lorne snatched Hatter's hat off his head and set it back down on the bar, his crimson eyes raptly trained on Jason.

"Hey, babe, you okay?" Jason immediately asked. He met Hatter's frantic gaze.

So many questions managed to find their way out of the fog of whiskey and Sea Breezes, bringing a hard, cold sobriety Hatter had been hoping to stave off for a few more hours yet. Was Alice all right? What had happened? What had the Slayers found? His heart thumped so loudly he thought it might crack through his ribcage.

As Maire spoke, Jason's face drained of all color. "She's…Oh my god." Shock and grief filled the young man's bright hazel eyes. He diverted his gaze from Hatter and the young man misinterpreted the meaning. A wave of nausea swamped him and he felt like his chest had caved in on itself, making it impossible to bring in air.

_No…no no no._

"Jason…no…" he stammered. How he managed to even speak was incredible. His throat felt like it had been permanently sealed off. He hovered in terror and agony, afraid to fully ask the question he desperately needed the answer to.

"Is Alice okay?" Lorne asked for him. Hatter shot him a grateful look.

Jason, phone pressed to his ear as he listened to his girlfriend speak, nodded curtly to reassure them. Hatter breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay, yes…um, we're at Lorne's bar right now. We'll head over to the mansion right away. Oh my god…I just can't believe this. The thing had wings, you say?" It was silent on Jason's end for a few more moments. Maire's voice on the other end was nothing more than a tinny buzz. Hatter desperately wanted the conversation to end so he could pelt his friend with questions. Why was Alice not calling him? She was alive; Jason had assured them of that. Was she hurt? Too hurt to phone him and give him the reassurance of hearing her voice?

"Um, well, there are a few demons that come to mind off the top of my head, but I'll have to do some research. It's…" Jason rubbed at his glistening eyes and shook his head, emitting a ragged sigh. "Okay, I'm gonna go. I'll see you when we get there. I love you. Bye." He pulled the phone away and drew his gaze over to Hatter and Lorne who silently awaited the grim news.

Jason massaged the bridge of his nose and inhaled sharply. He took a few moments to gather his composure before announcing in a flat voice. "Erica's dead. And whatever it was that killed her got away and nobody knows what the fuck it is."

* * *

><p>Sorrow and shock saturated the air of the Samuel Mather estate. The collective emotions of Slayers, Watchers, and other support staff members amplified each other and barreled down on the Wonderland native. He could feel it as Jason drove up the long driveway. Erica was the first Slayer to fall since he had come to this world and he was not sure quite what to expect. Hatter himself was not even sure how to react around the girls who had just lost one of their own in battle. And yet, in a strange way, he was oddly relieved to feel the anguish and horror. It symbolized to him that, whatever the dangers these girls faced on a constant basis, losing one of their own was still a rare enough occurrence that they were not desensitized to it. It stripped the super empowered young women down to a raw, human level.<p>

His heart ached for Alice and what she must be going through now. Erica had been her student, her protégé, and she had still harbored a sense of responsibility for her. It was terrible, what had happened to the eighteen-year-old. He grieved for the loss of such a young life and a girl who had been his friend. But he could not completely abolish the insidious sense of relief that it was Erica and not Alice who had perished. It was horrible to even think such a thing and he studiously kept those thoughts to himself. He did wonder, though, if Jason thought the same thing in regards to Maire. Had Jason experienced this combination of relief, horror, and subsequent guilt every time a Slayer perished and Maire survived? He had tried to probe his friend's emotions on the way back to the mansion, but his senses were marred by the alcohol and his own swirling mass of feelings.

Lorne had ridden back with them, eager to lend his emotional support and expertise in helping identify the creature that had killed a Slayer. The details Jason had provided had been sparse, but that was all he had been able to glean from his conversation with his distraught girlfriend. All they had to go on so far was that the creature had had wings and had somehow been able to temporarily incapacitate Alice, Shannon, and Faith with nothing more than a screech. Hatter had paled upon hearing that but had calmed down once Jason explained that the women experienced no permanent damage from the auditory attack. He did not ask about the manner of Erica's death, however. His curiosity did not extend so far as to require those morbid details. He was sure he would hear it from Alice anyway. Somehow he felt that the young girl's death had not been a clean, peaceful end. Due to the nature of their occupations, Slayers' lives tended to end in violent, gruesome ways. For the moment, he did not think he could stomach the imagery.

He sought out Alice once he stepped foot inside the mansion, bypassing wandering Slayers and staff members, all of whom wore the same stunned expressions of grief on their faces. Girls lingered in the corridors, silently weeping on each others' shoulders. Erica may not have won any popularity contests, but she had still been a sister-in-arms to them. She was still one of theirs. They would mourn her passing just as much as any other Slayer.

Jason had said something about the ranking Slayers including Alice, Shannon, Faith, and Maire having gathered in one of the main conference rooms. His heart beat wildly as he twisted the doorknob to the conference room. They were all in there, conversing quietly. Well, Shannon, Faith and Maire were all talking with a few other Slayers and Watchers. His Alice was sitting at the table, her head resting on her hand, staring off into space. He zoned in on his girlfriend, instantly catching sight of the blood staining her hands, flecks and patches of it on her neck and face as well. Her skin which was already naturally very fair was ghostly pale, nearly colorless. Her blue eyes were glazed over with a frightfully deadened cast. She did not even look as if she had been crying. She was in complete and utter shock.

_Oh, Alice…_

"Alice," he said aloud.

Heads turned. Jason and Lorne came up behind him and gently steered him further into the room so they could shut the door. He went over to Alice's side.

Jason made his way to the young woman with curly, red-gold hair and sea-gray eyes which were currently bloodshot and swollen from shedding tears. He wrapped his arms around her and crossed gazes with Hatter, who nodded at him.

He turned away from the other couple to cater to his own lover. "Alice, love, are you okay?" Hatter asked as he brushed some dark strands of hair out of her stricken face.

She blinked and glanced over at him, leaning into his embrace and resting her head on his shoulder. As wonderful as it felt to feel her warm, living body press up against his, reassuring him in such a tactile manner that she was physically well, he still worried over the lack of visible weeping.

"I'm fine," she said numbly. "I'll live."

The latter may have been true, but Hatter was not sure about the veracity of the former statement. Alice did not look _fine_ at all, though at least she appeared unharmed. He gave her a quick one-over and blanched, taking back that claim. Her blue t-shirt was caked with partially dried blood and her jeans had more than their fair share of brownish-red splatters as well. His stomach turned over at the nightmarish sight.

"Alice…my god…are you hurt?" he blurted while latching onto her arm.

Alice frowned in confusion. She looked down at herself. "Oh, no, that's not my blood. I helped move…" She lapsed into silence as she took a deep, tremulous breath. A spasm of pain crossed over her grimly beautiful features. That was when he felt the barest flickering of the grief she seemed determined to smother. He realized then that she wanted to cry, she wanted to give into the same urges everyone else was freely entertaining. But for one reason or another, she would not allow herself the luxury. Why would she not just let herself feel it? Surely she knew it was far worse to hold it in.

_I need to get her out of here. Away from everyone else. Alice doesn't like to look weak in front of others, that's it. She's trying to keep herself together and she needs to be free to express her grief._

Lorne embraced Faith and Shannon with a concerned glance sent over Hatter and Alice's way. "I'm so sorry, girls. She was just a kid…it's horrible. If there's anything I can do, anything you need." He twisted his hands together.

"Thanks, Lorne, um, if you could go with Bekah and Reeta to the Howe mansion to break the news to the trainees over there, that would be great. You might help soften the blow a bit," Faith requested. The eldest Slayer of the base looked completely worn out and far older than her twenty-eight years suggested. She was slim and dark-haired like Alice, but with smoldering brown eyes and a far more jaded demeanor. She had been one of the original two Slayers before the infamous battle at Sunnydale Alice had told him about. She normally wore the mantle of Slayerhood quite easily, but tonight it looked like it was weighing her down to the ground. As the leader of all the Slayers who fought upon the Cleveland Hellmouth, she took the deaths of the girls under her command with a degree of culpability.

"What _happened_?" Jason asked. His arms protectively encircled Maire. "I mean, how, of all places, did Erica come across this…_thing_ in the Wildwood? What was she doing there anyway?"

"As near as we can tell, she was there completely by happenstance," his girlfriend answered in her thick Irish brogue. "You know, she'd been patrollin' just about every night since Alice approved her release an' I guess she got tired o' the usual haunts. She ended up in the wrong place in the wrong time. But I never saw the creature…just what it did to her." She shuddered and closed her eyes.

Hatter felt himself grow cold all over. He drew Alice in closer, torn between taking her out of there and staying to hear the tragic chain of events.

"What did it do to her?" asked Lorne. "Not that I'm too eager to hear all the gory details, but demons sometimes have a consistent MO when they maim and murder."

"He's right," Jason said wearily.

"It ripped her open. Disemboweled her and tore out her guts. And then it tore out her throat. Or it tore out her throat first. The medical examiner will have to get back to us on that." Alice's voice rang out clear, concise, and completely flat. She might have been reciting a passage in a book for all the emotion she poured into her words. Hatter's stomach convulsed at the graphic images which arose.

"It also attacked a civilian," a young woman with skin the color of cinnamon, silky black hair, and penetrating coal black eyes added. She spoke in a crisp English accent. "He suffered deep lacerations on his arm and the skin of his hand was almost completely de-gloved. He was incoherent with pain. It seems that the creature picked him up by his hand and dragged him through the air by the limb. I also noticed his shoulder was pulled out of its socket. It is my thinking that Erica must have intervened before the creature did more damage." In addition to being a Slayer, Reeta Bhamra was also a trained and licensed paramedic. It was quite fortunate she had been on the scene to take care of the wounded man before more help arrived.

"Where was he when he was attacked?" Hatter asked.

Reeta dolefully shook her head. "Unfortunately, he never seemed to gain enough coherence to provide that information. He went into shock by the time EMS arrived. I'm going to follow it up tomorrow."

"What about the creature? What did it look like?" Jason asked, directing his question to Faith and the curvy dark-haired girl with coffee-brown eyes next to her. She was Shannon Devereaux, a Slayer who had fought in Sunnydale alongside Alice and Faith. The other Slayers were among the ones discovered after the Battle of Sunnydale. It was that reason alone why those three were the highest ranked at the base. Being a Sunnydale veteran tended to set one apart from all the rest, Hatter had learned.

The two women exchanged looks before returning their gazes to the Watcher. "To be honest, it's really hard to say what it looked like," said Shannon in her Southern-flavored accent. "It was big, it had wings, and it sure as hell could yell. Damn thing had us on our knees and made our skulls about to split in two when it screeched. And we were dizzy as hell and couldn't walk a straight line even after it shut up. I call that one hell of a good offensive maneuver."

"Yeah, it did it to me and I wasn't even as close as those two were," Alice said.

"Anything else you could give us…color, what kind of skin, did it resemble an animal?" Jason cajoled somewhat desperately.

"Well, it walked on four legs," answered Faith. "But the color…I want to say it had fur and feathers, but I'm really not sure. The color was…it didn't seem to _have_ a color. It blended into its surroundings like some kind of weird ass chameleon."

"This thing is just sounding more and more wonderful," Lorne muttered sarcastically.

"It didn't feel like anything we'd ever encountered before," Alice told him grimly. She pulled her hands up to run through her hair, but only seemed to just remember they were still coated in Erica's blood. So she dropped them back on the table.

"So let me get this straight…we have a creature that can fly, walks on four legs, most likely has either very large, sharp claws or teeth or both, is able to cause extreme pain and debilitating vertigo with just a cry, and also possesses camouflage ability. It's strong enough to lift a full-grown man into the air and carry him for an extended distance, presumably. And this thing managed to brutally kill a healthy, young Slayer," Jason recapped in an ominous tone.

"Sounds like the hellmouth thinks our lives have been too dull of late," piped up a red-headed Slayer with large, luminous olive green eyes named Bekah Ryder.

Silence ensued after that remark. No one could disagree with that statement.

"I have Solange doing a sweep with the coven to see if there's any mystical disturbances of late and to see if they can get a read on the creature. Looks like we have a lot of research to do. As of right now, I don't want any Slayer out there patrolling alone regardless of her training level until we find out more about this thing," said Faith with an uncharacteristic note of imperiousness to her tone.

"We also need to alert our contacts with the police," Maire commented. "It already attacked a civilian and we don't know where it will strike next. They'll need to put the public on alert in a…tactful manner."

As fascinating as the protocol discussion which followed would have been, Hatter could only think of taking Alice home where she could clean up and weep in private. She was straining to maintain her mask of cool professionalism as she joined in the planning. But he could feel the fatigue and distress slowly gaining more ground. His girlfriend was nearing a break-down and he was probably the only one who could sense it. Even Alice probably did not realize it was coming.

Lorne eventually left with Reeta and Bekah to go to the Howe estate a few blocks down which contained the primary living quarters of the Slayers. Others left to return to the duties which had been interrupted by the tragedy or to return their beds. It was easy to forget that it was actually the middle of the night with dawn just a few hours away. But evil did not sleep and so the base operated on a rotating schedule of night shifts, day shifts, and evening shifts. The group soon dwindled down to Hatter, Alice, Jason, Maire, Shannon, and Faith.

"I guess I'll have to go call Erica's parents," Alice stammered. Her voice cracked.

Hatter clasped her hand, not caring that her palms were still covered with blood. "Sweetheart, it's the middle of the night. Why don't you let them have the rest of the night to sleep thinking their daughter is alive and well? You can break the news to them tomorrow."

She pursed her lips, her blue eyes welling with tears. She blinked rapidly to beat them back. "Oh…yeah I guess you're right."

"Alice, why don't you just let Hatter take you home?" Jason softly suggested.

"Yeah I think we all need to get some rest...and a shower," Faith commented.

"But…but we can't delay working on this," she argued. Her voice was tinged with anguish. "Something is out there! It killed my Slayer tonight and almost killed a man. We don't have any time to lose…we have to find it and stop it before someone else pays the price." She slammed her hands down on the desk. Her body trembled. The knuckles on her hands were parched of all color as she tightly clenched her fists.

"We will find it, Alice, but we need to learn more about it first," Faith countered. "I'm going to pull rank on you and tell you to go home with Hatter, shower, and go to sleep if you can. We'll deal with it when the sun is up. At this point, it'd be almost suicide to go after this thing right now."

"We have to get back out there and find that beast. Now," Alice returned with harsh vehemence.

"No. Alice, no!" Hatter stepped in. She must not have been thinking clearly. There was no possible way she was in any condition to go hunting down a beast they had just described. They knew next to nothing about the creature and, by all accounts, she and the other two Slayers were lucky to have survived their first encounter with it. Normally, she would realize this. Alice was usually quite level-headed and rational. But Erica's death had hit her hard and it was interfering with her normal reactions.

"Don't even think about it," Faith commanded. "Remember our first rule."

Alice stood stock-still, staring down at the desk for a few moments and breathing quite heavily. Then she turned on her heels and swept out of the room. Hatter sped after her, terrified of what she might be possessed to do in this state of mind. But Alice had only made it halfway down the corridor before she stopped and leaned an arm against the wall. Her knees buckled and Hatter dashed down the hallway, catching her before she completely collapsed.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," she croaked, her hand flying to her mouth. Her body vibrated with dry heaves. She did not vomit, but that was more than enough incentive for Hatter to make an executive decision. He was taking her away from this. Now.

"Come on, love," he whispered as he scooped her up in his arms and kissed her forehead. "Let's go home."

She did not issue a word of protest as he carried her down the hallway and out the door of the mansion.

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><p><strong>Review and tell me what you think, pretty please? I love hearing all the questions and thoughts!<strong>


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